Infamy
by WaywardWordsmith
Summary: "Glory and infamy are two sides of the same coin." Welcome to the 35th Hunger Games.
1. Epiphany

**Scars.**

_My mind is lost, we always knew this day was coming  
and now it's more frightening than it's ever gonna be_

* * *

**Clos Aurillac, District One Male.**

* * *

_Why did I want this?_

The thought comes on suddenly, unwelcome and unwanted. I push it to the back of my mind as I pull the knife from his stomach and drop the lifeless body to the sand. It still lingers though; forbidden and tugging at my morality like fingers plucking the chords of a harp.

_Did he want this? _

My eyes turn downwards, observing the corpse of the male from District Ten with morbid curiosity. His blood seeps from the gaping wound in his abdomen, tainting the golden texture beneath him a rich crimson. As the pool grows, I realise in astonishment that I had never learned his name.

Ten. That's all he'll be remembered as. A tally in my victim list.

I stomach the guilt for later. The Games aren't over yet…

Sand. It falls between my toes as I turn, gaze flitting towards Clarity. An ally. A friend. My final opponent.

Her own weapon is there - sharp point of the sword pointed towards me. But I notice the fragility of her grip, the sombre glint of her eyes, the sad smile playing on her lips. She doesn't want to kill me either.

"We don't have to fight?" I ask hopefully, although I'm already aware of what has to conspire between us. Two remain. Only one is allowed to survive.

Clarity shakes her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." I nod, resigning myself to fate. No, not fate. Everything depends on my skill, my strength, my agility..luck and superstition have had no control over my survival so far, why should I relinquish control now?

Clarity and I circle each other on the beach; a surprisingly peaceful backdrop to our coming fight. The waves crash and roll, the gulls squawk above us and for once, I'm eternally grateful that the Gamemakers aren't throwing anything more our way.

Of course they won't. This is the real entertainment for them - playing with lives and relationships, pitting friend against friend. It makes real drama, creates an edge-of-the-seat atmosphere that the Capitolites crave so hungrily.

I should know. Back home, I used to watch the screen with the same irrational excitement.

But now? The reality of the situation is crushing me. I'm suppose to murder her - my closest companion in this serene hellhole. Excuse me, audience, if I lack the conviction and eagerness to commit the deed.

My eyes are locked with Clarity, observing every movement to give a clue to her next actions. I know how fast she is, how good her swordplay is. We fought together in this arena, right from the very beginning until now. I witnessed her single-handedly take down the brute from Seven, stab her blade through Three's chest, decapitate Ford without blinking when our alliance with Four and Two came to an end. I know all her strengths and her weaknesses from eleven days of seeing her in battle.

The downside? She knows mine too.

My heart is racing in its chest, threatening to burst from my rib-cage. The adrenaline pounds in my veins. Something has to happen soon..

I'm a Career. I was born for this, bred for this. Everything I have learnt and experienced was for this moment.

I'm the predator. Everyone else, the prey.

My biggest competition? Those who also belong to the Pack.

I decide with a heavy sigh, that it's now or never.

I leap forward, swiping with my knife in a long arc directed at her neck. As I predicted, she's fast and dodges the weapon; bringing her own blade up to meet mine. Steel clashes with steel.

Gritting my teeth, I can feel the sword's weight pushing down upon me. It's a stronger weapon, but my knife is smaller and faster.

The stalemate is broken by a kick from Clarity, her foot connecting with my leg. I feel the force and am knocked backwards, pain spiking at the source of the impact. Luckily, I don't lose my footing.

She's good. But I need to be better.

Our weapons clash again and again, a deadly dance of district partner against district partner. Whatever happens, District One will have a victor this year.

That victor has to be me.

I duck to avoid a blow aimed at my head. The futile strike seems to tire my enemy and I use the moment of weakness to my advantage. With my free hand, I grasp and gather as much sand as I possibly can - before throwing it straight into her face.

She retreats backwards, blinded. I swallow the lump in my throat.

My hand finds her wrist and twists. I only need to hear the thump to know the sword has been dropped.

She cries out, wriggling in my grip. I can sense the panic she feels, the realization that she's about to die. It gives me a shameful sense of power.

I pull Clarity closer to me and without hesitation, embed the knife in her chest. She cries out in pain, there is hushed breathing for a second..until the steady rhythm ends. I let her fall to the ground, in the similar matter as Ten.

Dead.

Alive.

I'm alive.

The relief floods my senses for a second, before being replaced by a heavy pang of guilt. Clarity's eyes stare back at me, lifeless but with the same beauty they had in life. Something about them being open appalls my basic sense of humanity and I kneel on the ground, fingers tracing over her skin and finding her eyelids. I pull them shut.

"I'm sorry." I lean close to her ear, whispering the words so quietly I struggle to hear them myself. It's to stop the Capitol listening, to preserve our goodbye and keep something between us that hasn't been analysed and watched by a perturbing audience.

Sickening. It's sickening. They made..made me kill her.

I hear the buzz of a hovercraft somewhere off to the distance, approaching my location.

But this is what I wanted. And this is what Clarity wanted.

We volunteered. We signed our death warrants.

I just managed to turn up trumps.

Above the rest.

As everyone wanted me to.

As a Career should.

The hovercraft drops the ladder before me. I begin to ascend. I'm a Victor now.

The price? I'm a little less human.

* * *

**Hello!**

**My track record with stories is..errr..terrible. So let's all forget about that and make this a clean state. Infamy has been stewing in my mind for quite some time, so I'm excited to finally see the beginning be published. Why now? I wanted to jump on the bandwagon which is posting new SYOT's - which I hopes works in my favour, since I'm sure most of you are pumping out tributes left right and centre. Can you spare one for me?**

**Relevant details are on my profile. Deadline is the 12th February and will be extended if needed. FYI, this is a verse that is set apart from canon; everything exists as normal in Panem, except we have the complete absence of canon characters. If you're interested why, it's because I like the idea of starting afresh. Do you want the real reason? I'm not confident in my ability to portray those created by Suzanne Collins.**

**I'm not going to beg, moan and plead for reviews - but do not underestimate them, they really make me feel great.**

**Adios, hopefully I will see you soon with twenty-four tributes!**


	2. Counsel

**Scars.**

_My mind is lost, we always knew this day was coming  
and now it's more frightening than it's ever gonna be_

* * *

**Clos Aurillac, District One Male.  
Victor of the Thirty-Fourth Hunger Games**

* * *

The class fills the hall impatiently, twenty-five or so fifteen years old scrambling for the different weapons like a pack of rabid dogs. I watch from the sidelines, content to keep an observant and passive teaching role. Serene is unbelievably territorial over her trainees and only allowed me to cover the class once I swore to limit my interfering.

Fine by me. Instead, I move between each of the aspiring Careers; only intervening when advice is absolutely necessary or there was a clear breach of the rules. As I pass by, I mentally note which pupils have gathered in groups and pairs or practice alone. Collectivists or individualists. Pack members or lone-wolves.

This analysis of social interactions - how each of the pupils communicated, engaged with each other - is what I've been told and taught to do. What I learn contributes to their final assessments; the basis for who gets picked to volunteer each year. In fact, it's exactly how I and Clarity were chosen

Ticking all the boxes is our speciality.

Was, I remind myself.

God...how long has it been? Nine. No, Ten months since her parents buried her and I watched from the distance, as her elaborate coffin descended into the ground. It was hard to see over the multitude of her family and friends who had come to pay their respect, but I stayed well back from the centre of the scene - despite how much I wanted to be right there at the front, saying goodbye as I should. Her parents didn't want their daughter's murderer there...and it was only right to respect their wishes.

Standing here in this room, knowing that we both trained here - although never together, for she was in a separate class - brings up a thousand forgotten feelings. Feelings that I thought I had buried.

We both trained. I won, she lost. I survived, she died. Sometimes the guilt is hard to suppress, it's consuming. Clarity lived her entire life training for the chance of victory, a victory that I snatched right under her gaze.

Years of her life wasted for the opportunity to die.

My concentration wanders back to those around me and my gaze flits between those who I know are most prominent among the group, the ones Serene can't stop badgering me and the other trainees about. The 'best of the best' as she likes to name them.

Yet, how many of them will die? How many have to die before Serene finds the Victor she mentored?

This life is stupid. It's dumb. It's promising yourself wealth and glory that will never come to pass and killing yourself in the process. Even if you win.

But I fell for it , so did Clarity, so did Serene and so is everyone else in the room. The Career lifestyle is toxic, but we're blind to it.

And I don't have the effort or the power to become the antidote. So I've resigned myself to a life where I train those who feed the endless cycle of death.

Pathetic, really.

I move close to the archery range, where instead of shooting at the designated targets one trainee has decided to skewer a dummy with several arrows. Externally I sigh, inwardly I groan.

He's using the completely wrong technique.

"Hey kid, what do you think you're doing?" I ask with a stern expression, crossing my arms as he turns arrogantly to respond.

Blonde-hair combed neatly upwards into a fashionable haircut that apparently is all the rage amongst the elite crowd of One, he rolls his eyes at my question as if I've just asked the dumbest thing in the world.

"I'm practicing archery." He points at his bow, before grinning sardonically, "But you never used a bow in last year's Games, did you Clos? You used a knife, right? I mean, that's how you killed your district-partner."

Sniggers erupt from those who heard the remark and It takes all my effort to restrain my bubbling anger, clenching my fists until my knuckles turn white. My willpower is close to breaking but I manage to ignore the remark.

"I only wanted to give you advice. And that's sir to you, not Clos."

The boy only shrugs, before spinning around to let loose another arrow at the dummy. The shot is shoddy, but it hits its intended mark - fake red liquid pooling from the makeshift wound.

He twists his face around, smiling with a haughty grin.

"As you can see," gesturing his hands proudly at his work, "I don't need your advice."

I clamp my teeth together in anger, frustrating bubbling within. Who the heck does this kid think he is?

"You're a trainee from One, not some brute from Two or sympathiser from Four. You shoot to kill; not to maim, injure or inflict pain."

He shrugs again. His ignorance...I can't stand it.

"What's your name?"

"Prodigy. My parents named me in advance, you see. I know I'm going to volunteer eventually and I'm going to win."

This is me. Four years previous. The same arrogance, the same outlook on life, the same dream. This is me. And I hate him for it.

As if a blessing from whatever God there is, the bell suddenly rings. I relax in relief as Prodigy throws his bow on the floor and walks away, joining the congregation advancing on the exit.

"Prodigy!" I shout on impulse, unsure of my words. He turns back confused and annoyed, giving me a sharp look. I ignore it, intent on making a point. Whatever that is.

"You can volunteer. You can win. But you've got to realize the consequences. You're attracted to the benefits - wealth, fame, power, whilst you forget the negatives."

He taps his foot, growing bored.

"Look, just listen to me. I know you don't want to, but that doesn't matter. If you want to be a Career, you've got to understand something. Glory and infamy..they are two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other."

Prodigy mutters something about understanding, then leaves once I dismiss him. I know he never really listened, they never do. I never did.

But still, some part of me hopes he'll remember that.

It's for his own good.

* * *

**Big thanks to everybody that submitted - I apologize to those who weren't accepted, but at least you can use those forms elsewhere. I believe I've picked a good and varied bunch of tributes for this story, find out below if yours was chosen!**

**Just to make you aware, three submitters have two tributes each. This was because we were nearing the deadline and I wasn't recieving anymore tributes for those spots. Don't worry though, this won't effect your individual chances.**

* * *

**Tribute List**

**District One**

Male: Mercutio Armistead

Female: Mera Redwyne

**District Two**

Male: Arrius Verdura

Female: Ilda Marelli

**District Three**

Male: Quinn Belmont

Female: Elixir Vaswell

**District Four**

Male: Julio Pavalli

Female: Nerine Spinner

**District Five**

Male: Sylverius Risett

Female: Jasmine Watt

**District Six**

Male: Aleric Laeden

Female: Esther Malarie

**District Seven**

Male: Ambien Brenner

Female: Kalani Reneau

**District Eight**

Male: Baptiste L'Acroix

Female: Emara Rondel

**District Nine**

Male: Marco Faust

Female: Augustine Hozier

**District Ten**

Male: Heath Lachance

Female: Anemone Noble

**District Eleven**

Male: Isaiah Emerson

Female: Anwen Sawyer

**District Twelve**

Male: Kameron Grell

Female: Chastity Amador

* * *

**You can find the blog link on my profile, enjoy!**

* * *

**I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. Because I am, not only for the tributes but for the story and arena I have planned! It's going to be a wild ride, I can tell, and I'm going to make it as good as I can.**

**My updates are going to be sporadic, but you can expect one at least every two weeks. I understand that might be a long wait compared to other SYOTs and authors, but I have other stuff that occupies my time frequently. I won't forget about Infamy however, you can be sure of that. Also, just because I said I will update every two weeks - doesn't mean you can't expect some chapters earlier.**

**Have fun scrolling through the blog, a review on it would be amazing! **

* * *

**Questions:**

_Who were your favourites/who stood out?_

_Who were your least favourites?_

_Like/Neutral/Dislike Chart?_

* * *

**See you with the next chapter, adios folks.**


	3. Placings

p style="text-align: center;"strongPlacings/strong/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong24th - /strongJasmine Watt/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong23rd - /strongIsaiah Emerson/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong22nd /strong- Marco Faust/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong21st /strong- Aleric Laeden/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong20th - /strongEmara Rondel/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong19th - /strongIlda Marelli/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong18th - /strongEsther Malarie/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong17th - /strongSylverius Risett/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong16th - /strongAnemone Noble/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong15th - /strongAnwen Sawyer/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong14th - /strongBaptiste L'Acroix/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong13th -/strong Mera Redwyne/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong12th - /strongJulio Pavelli/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong11th - /strongAmbien Brenner/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong10th - /strongChastity Amador/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong9th/strong - Arrius Verdura/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong8th - /strongKameron Grell/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong7th /strong- Elixir Vaswell/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong6th - /strongAugustine Hozier/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong5th - /strongNerine Spinner/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong4th - /strongQuinn Belmont/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong3rd - /strongHeath Lachance/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong2nd - /strongMercutio Armistead/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strongVictor - /strongKalani Reneau/p 


End file.
